


A Birth

by JantoJones



Series: Further Brief Briefings [17]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 23:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Just so you know, Illya's feelings in this tale may be a very real reflection of my own following today's news here in Britain (April 23rd 2018)





	A Birth

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know, Illya's feelings in this tale may be a very real reflection of my own following today's news here in Britain (April 23rd 2018)

**10th March 1964**

It had been a long morning, filled with tedious meeting, and by the time Napoleon and Illya went to lunch it was already 2pm. Dull meetings and a late lunch made for one very cranky Russian. His mood darkened when he found the commissary full.

“I shall pay for my lunch and take it to our office,” he said to Napoleon, as they joined the end of the line.

“Don’t be so unsociable, Tovarisch,” Napoleon chided. “By the looks of it most of these people will be leaving soon.

Illya conceded the point and, after buying his turkey sandwich, he sat down at a corner table. He had only just taken his second bite when an excitable Mark Slate came in and joined them.

“It’s a boy!” he announced.

Napoleon and Illya both raised their eyebrows, but it was the American who spoke.

“Does Mr Waverly know about this?”

“I should imagine so,” Mark replied, looking confused. “He is British after all.”

“I believe we may be thinking at cross purposes,” Illya cut it. “Has some had a baby? If so, who?”

“Queen Elizabeth!” the Brit stated, as if it should have been common knowledge already. “She has given birth to a son. It's going to be dirty nappies and nannies in starched white aprons in the palace.”

Prince Edward Antony Richard Louis was the fourth child of Queen Elizabeth the Second of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and her husband, Prince Philip. Despite it being only his first day on Earth, the child was already third in line to the throne, having bypassed his older sister, Anne.

“Why is this cause for celebration in your nation?” Illya asked with a slight sneer.

“Oh, come on Illya,” said Napoleon. “A baby is always a cause for celebration.”

“That is not what I meant,” the Soviet replied. “It is only right for the parents, family, and friends to feel joy at such an event. However, there are people in Britain who struggle every day for what they have, yet they celebrate the arrival of another person for whom struggle will never be an issue. These people even contribute to the luxurious lifestyle of the royal family while they scrimp and save. 

I will admit that the Queen herself does do something for international diplomacy, but there are so many others who abuse the position they have found themselves in. They have no care for the ‘ordinary people’, who fawn and simper over them. So, forgive me if I am unable to understand a mind-set that believes someone to be better than them simply because they were fortunate to be born into privilege. This child is just another leech on the British populace.”

Re-wrapping his sandwich, he stood up abruptly. 

“Excuse me,” he said, picking up his lunch. “I will eat this in my office.”

He left, leaving Mark and Napoleon open-mouthed at his rant.


End file.
